A Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure
by bluehazegrl
Summary: Right after HBP. Hermione is captured. Her savior: none other than her former enemy. Will friendships and bravery be enough to defeat Voldemort? DMHG
1. Chapter 1

Update: December 25, 2005  
MMMMk. So before I get too far into this story, I am going back over my first three chapters and re-editing because there are a few mistakes in them. I might even expand some scenes. So ta-da. Enjoy

Please review. I won't get any better if you guys don't leave me feedback.

**Disclaimer for the entire story, because I am too damn lazy to post it every time (and too forgetful): JKR owns characters, settings, etc. that are from the HP universe. I own the rest. **

End update.

Muahaha. Although I have a number of stories up, I could not help but start this one. I had to. I was moved to write it. The idea has been itching in me for quite awhile, especially because so many fics I have read that have a similar plot line have been so awful. Only a few have been good reads and hardly any of them turn out the way I want- so I figured if I wanted something a certain way, I was going to have to write it like that.

**Summary**: Hermione is captured by Death Eaters (yes, it is a bit overdone, but sue me, okay?). This takes place directly after HBP. Warning- spoilers. Tortured for information, Hermione finds a new person to rely on for strength. DM/HG in future chapters. Now it is a race against time. Hermione and Ron must help Harry destroy the Horcruxes before Voldemort realizes they have knowledge of his road to immortality. A Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure (sue me- so I stole it from Princess Bride).

**Disclaimer**:The intelligent William Goldman owns the lovely "A classic tale of true love and high adventure" catch line.

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Hermione woke with a start. Sitting up in bed she frantically looked around trying to gain her bearings. Shakily, she lay back against her cool pillows, gathering her thoughts and trying to calm her racing heart. It had been a week since she and her two best friends had arrived at King's Cross and made the passage into the muggle world.

Sadly Hermione smiled, remembering the hasty plans they had made before splitting up at the train station. Harry had returned to the Dursley's one last time per Dumbledore's wishes and Hermione had decided to spend the two weeks until the wedding of Fleur and Bill at her father's house—just in case something happened to her or him during her journey.

Although she had been home for some time in her the peaceful muggle house, she was having recurring nightmares because of an event that took place as she was exiting the Hogwarts Express.

_Hermione was gathering her trunk and belongings, readying herself to join Harry and Ron, who were already down on the platform, when a hand softly rested on her shoulder. Startled, Hermione looked up into the cold eyes of Blaise Zabini. _

"_Excuse you!" she huffed indignantly. _

_Blaise didn't falter in the least. He looked over his shoulder at the students hurrying past with their trunks, as if making sure no one was listening. Leaning close, he whispered to Hermione, "I can't tell you how I know this, but Voldemort is planning something for you. You need to watch your back. Things aren't always what they seem." After a moments pause he added, "Be careful, Hermione." _

_At a loss for words, Hermione shrugged away from his hand that still rested on her shoulder and turned to her compartment. She sensed a warm hand gently grab her wrist and felt a piece of folded parchment enter her fist. Carefully, she clutched it. "I can look after myself, Zabini."_

_He smiled cockily as Hermione noticed Pansy Parkinson making her way towards them. "Sod off, mudblood!" he exclaimed in a loud voice. "Don't forget what I told you." With his back turned towards Pansy, he gave Hermione one last fleeting look before turning around and embracing the blonde Slytherin. _

"_Come on, Blaise," the ugly girl purred grabbing his muscular arm with her pudgy hand. _

_Hermione watched the two of them saunter off, both whispering madly. Making sure she was alone, Hermione unfolded the parchment and read the letter. _

"_Oi, Hermione," Ron yelled from the platform, snapping her out of her shock, "What are you doing up there?"_

"I'm c_oming," Hermione shot back, quickly stuffing the note into a pocket in her jeans before grabbing her belongings. _

Hermione snapped out of her memory, shuddering at the recollection of her nightmare. Her dreams were projections in her mind of what the note had read. She slowly got out of her bed and made her way towards her dresser. Opening a secret compartment in her third drawer revealed the crumpled message.

She opened it and read for the thousandth time the warning that Blaise Zabini had given her.

_Hermione Granger,  
I know that we have never gotten on, but you must understand that circumstances were beyond my control. "Ferret Boy" too has been under the same pressures. I hope that you will find it in you to forget our past treatment of you and take this message seriously. You are in danger. Voldemort is going to use you to get Harry Potter. Don't go anywhere alone. If they succeed in capturing you they will try to get information out of you about Potter's progress. Do not let him tell you anything of importance. You are a strong witch, but they have powers beyond your imagination. If you know important things about Potter's plans, they will get them from you and the wizarding community will be in danger. Potter will loose the upper hand; Voldemort will be able to circumvent his plans and kill him. We cannot let Voldemort win. Make sure you let Potter know that if you are taken, he is not to come after you- he will surely be killed by Voldemort. I'm sorry. "Ferret Boy" and I have had to take the Dark Mark. We are not loyal followers to Voldemort though. Please, keep this in mind.  
-Z.-_

Hermione remembered how she had marveled at his avoidance of using his or Malfoy's name and the fact that he had said Voldemort instead of the Dark Lord. She had not shared the letter with Ron or Harry; she didn't want them to worry. Before joining her father at King's Cross, she had pulled Harry aside and told him that because of a tip off she had received, she could not hear any of his plans regarding Voldemort for it would endanger their chance of victory. Also she told him to tell Ron that they should each be expecting an owl from her in two days time containing a very important object. Harry had seemed puzzled but his uncle was tapping his foot impatiently and he did not have time to further question her.

After being at home for a day, Hermione felt she had finally perfected her creations. The table before her was littered with three silver rings. Her spell was finally complete. Each of her two friends and her would wear one of the rings. When they were in danger, a simple nonverbal incantation would activate the rings. If the ring one wore pulsed, it meant that one of their number was in trouble and needed rescuing. If the ring one wore turned cold, it too meant that one of their number was in trouble, however returning to them meant certain death. Hermione smiled to herself- it was perfect. If she was captured by the Death Eaters, she would be able to warn away Harry and Ron.

That was days ago, and each night Hermione had been visited by nightmares that included Voldemort and a number of Death Eaters attacking her. She knew that she was being silly. She was safe at the moment and not in immediate danger, but she still feared what might happen if she was brought before Voldemort.

Twirling her silver ring about her petite finger she returned to her bed and tried to fall back asleep.

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I know the first chapter was a bit short, but I had to set up the story. K? Please review. I really need feedback, especially because I'm working with such a common plotline. How many fics are out there of HG/DM with Hermione getting captured by Death Eaters? So many. So please, I need feedback.

I got the idea of charmed objects changing temperatures from another fic I read. I can't remember which one though. So props to that author, whoever he or she is.

Please leave comments—I want feedback and need to know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Ahoy there mateys. This is the next installment! Hope you enjoy.

Please review.

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"Hermione, breakfast's ready."

It was early, too early in Hermione's mind. She had only truly fallen asleep around dawn and was now being woken from her slumber at the horridly early hour of eight in the morning. Her head ached from her troubled night and the glaring light streaming through her window was only increasing the pain. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"Hermione! Are you up?" Her father's voice echoed through the halls of their house.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm up," she yelled. Groggily she rose and stumbled to the bathroom, irritated that her sleep had been cut short.

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"Morning, father," Hermione mumbled as she entered the kitchen. "It smells wonderful." Still half asleep, Hermione took her seat at the sturdy kitchen table across from her father and began to pile food on her plate.

They ate breakfast in a comfortable silence, interrupted by the jarring sound of the telephone from the back hall. "I'll get it," Hermione's father said, motioning for her to finish her food.

A few minutes later, Hermione's father returned to the table, a stony look about his face. "That was your mother. She wants you to visit her this week."

"Dad," Hermione protested, too tired to want to deal with the never ending games her mother played. "Can't we talk about this later?"

"I suppose, but I want you to think about spending more time with her. She misses you."

"That may be so, but I need some time. It's too early to talk about this. Please, give me a bit." Hermione roughly pushed herself away from the table and jogged up to her room lost in thought.

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_Hermione,_

_I'm meeting Harry in Diagon Alley a day before Phlegm and Bill's wedding. Will you meet us there? I can't wait to see your pretty face. The three of us can stay at the Burrow until after the wedding. Then we will begin our 'journey.' Owl me back soon. I miss you a lot.  
With love, _  
_Ron_

Hermione scowled at the note that Ron had sent her. It was nice; simple and sweet, but as she had told her father, it was way too early to deal with matters of this type. The thought of Ron bugged her as well. She'd thought that she'd liked him in a special way, but as the days of her vacation wore on, she was beginning to realize he was more like a brother than anything else and any love she felt for him was purely nonromantic. He was just so awkward and young; so immature. He was a great friend, but she wanted something more in a romantic relationship than an overgrown schoolboy.

'_I'll deal with him when I need to_,' she thought unhappily to herself. Her summer was not shaping up the way she had expected and was more than ready to just begin her journey with her two best friends to destroy Voldemort. She'd deal with the 'complications' later: her mother and Ron included.

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The pain in her head would not leave her. What had been a small headache early in the day had progressed to a throbbing migraine by lunch. Hermione was sick of it and wanted to go to sleep. However, every time she lay down, nausea swept over her. She'd gone out for lunch with her mother, deciding to meet at their favorite restaurant. Her mother was late, as usual, and the sounds of the crowded establishment had done nothing to assuage her fierce headache. Once her mother finally showed up, Hermione was berated with useless questions and degrading comments.

Hermione had made up an excuse to leave early, claiming she had to meet some friends to work on a summer project. Her mother had bought it and now Hermione was slowly driving herself back to her house, massaging her hot brow. She wasn't sure how she felt about her mother at the moment, but she was too tired and grumpy to ponder their awkward relationship.

It was only two when she pulled into her driveway so she knew she'd have the house to herself for several more hours until her father returned from work. Her trip to her room was slow, made so by her headache. In her room, she gratefully collapsed on her bed, exhausted, and tried to fight down the rising urge in her stomach to bring up her lunch.

Rolling over, she punched the remote control lying on her bed and let the music from her stereo pour over her. Hermione closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep.

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She woke up to rough hands grabbing her. Opening her mouth to scream, Hermione felt a rough cloth being shoved into her mouth and heard a quiet male voice mutter, "Silencio."

Fighting with all her strength, Hermione tried to get a look at her attackers. She glimpsed several people in black robes and masked faces. She saw it was still afternoon out her window and was disheartened to realize no one was home but her.

"Quick, bind her hands and feet."

Hermione knew that voice. Shocked, she looked to the closest of the Death Eaters. '_Malfoy_?' she thought, panicked. '_What the hell is he doing in my house and how the hell am I going to escape?' _Her thoughts were cut short when she blacked out from a blow to her head from one of the Death Eaters.

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Hermione opened her eyes cautiously. She was lying on the floor in a dark and dank room, illuminated only by a solitary lamp hanging in the far corner of the dusty cubicle. The walls were solid stone, rough and cold to the touch. The door was made of sturdy wood that had darkened with age. There were no windows. The only piece of furniture in the small space was a wooden chair, sitting in the corner opposite the lamp.

A clanking noise at the door and the scrapings of locks caused Hermione to bolt into action. Quickly she sat up. She crawled to the closest wall so she'd have something at her back and leaned her frame against the solid barrier.

The door opened and Draco Malfoy sauntered in followed by Lucius Malfoy, each complete with their trademark sneer. "Good, the mudblood is up," Lucius drawled. He turned to Draco and nodded.

Draco strode over to Hermione and grabbed her roughly by one arm. He yanked her up and growled, "Come on, mudblood. I don't have all day."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Malfoy," Hermione spat, fully aware that at some point someone had lifted the silencing spell that had been placed on her. "Don't touch me you ferret."

Draco shoved Hermione against the wall, knocking her already sore head into the solid stone. "Shut the fuck up, mudblood," Draco breathed. "I do not take orders from trash." He twisted her arm so that she had no choice but to do his bidding. "Now walk." Hermione refused to move. "I'm warning you, mudblood. If you know what's best for you, you will walk. NOW!"

With that he began dragging Hermione towards the door. Arm twisted in pain, Hermione backed down and allowed herself to be ushered from the room. They walked through the dungeons' ill lit passageways for several minutes and finally came to a narrow flight of stairs.

Lucius paused and turned to Draco. "Take her to her room, Draco. You are in charge of her until the Dark Lord says differently. Make sure she does not escape." Twitching his robes straight, he turned away from the stairs towards the passage they had just come down and walked away.

Hermione was tired and sore. Exhausted before she was even captured, she now felt faint and ready to let the blackness that had been poking at her mind consume her. Draco's former death grip was now just a tight clutch on her sleeve. He was not paying her any attention and did not notice when she began blinking rapidly or gasping for breath. He didn't look at her until he felt the resistance of the sleeve clutched in his fist increase from a slight hold to full support of Hermione's weight.

She glanced up at him weakly, not wanting Draco to see her in such a shameful state. However hard she attempted to cling to her consciousness, blackness gripped her and she knew no more.

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A wet and cool feeling across her forehead caused Hermione to stir. "Come on, Granger," a hushed voice urged. "It's time to wake up."

Hermione moaned and let her hands fly to her forehead. Ferociously she began rubbing her temples, desperate to alleviate the pounding in her head. Lying on her stomach, Hermione felt cool hands begin to massage her neck. She leaned into the coolness, welcoming the slight relief it provided.

"Granger," the voice began, this time more deliberately. "Wake up."

Hermione wrenched her eyes open forcefully, determined to glare at the young man before her. It came off more as a feeble glance and she sat back dejectedly. Her head ached fiercely and she felt waves of nausea swarming over her.

"Malfoy, what the hell do you want?" she choked out, not wanting to deal with the problem before her.

"Look, Granger, I don't want to be here any more than you but you need to get up. Voldemort doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Hermione stared at him before getting the courage to voice her thoughts. "You called him 'Voldemort,' not 'the Dark Lord.' Why?"

"Granger, not everything is what it seems. I'll be back in five minutes for you. Now hurry up." He briskly walked out of the room, leaving a confused Hermione alone.

Only then did Hermione take a look at her surroundings. She was no longer in a dungeon, but rather, in a simple room. A wooden bed with a thin mattress upon which Hermione was laying stood against the wall opposite the door from which Malfoy had exited. Staring at the stone walls the full meaning of Malfoy's words hit her. Voldemort doesn't like to be kept waiting. '_What the hell_?' she thought panicked. '_I'm going to have to face Voldemort_.'

She shakily rose and went to the sink in the corner of her room. Hermione splashed cool water onto her face and dried her hands with a towel. Squaring her shoulders she sat back upon her bed to wait for Malfoy.

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The sudden scrapings at her door made her start. Hermione gracefully stood, determined to meet her doom with pride. As promised, Ferret Boy, as Hermione had affectionately termed him, had come to collect her.

"Quit smirking, Ferret," she scolded. "Your face might just freeze that way."

"Sod off, mudblood. We'll just see how cocky you are by the end of today."

"What? 'Mudblood' is the best you can come up with?" Hermione taunted. "My, my, my; you're going to have to work on that."

"I said sod off," Draco said, pushing her against the doorframe. His face was flushed with anger. "Now get walking." Forcefully, he shoved her out of the room.

Hermione turned to him, fearful yet amused. "In case you have forgotten, I've never been here before. I can't exactly lead," she pointed out in a casual voice.

"We'll see about that," Draco sneered before grabbing her arm and shoving her forward.

Hermione decided to back down momentarily for she knew if it came to a battle of strength, Draco would surely win. Head down, she allowed herself to be steered through the corridors, becoming lost in the number of turns they took.

They had passed several hooded figures which made Hermione wonder how heavily populated the building was.

"Stop gawking, Granger," Draco huffed. "You're attracting stares."

Indeed she was. Hermione involuntarily shrank closer to Draco as they passed a thick group of Death Eaters.

After ten minutes, Draco halted her in front of an iron door. The handles were shaped like snakes. "Go in," he instructed. "I'll be here when he's finished with you." He gave her arm a quick squeeze, quickly released her, and shoved her past the opening doors.

Hermione jumped as the doors behind her clanged shut. "Welcome, my princess," a wispy voice greeted nearby. The room was dark; the light came from the ceiling, two faintly glowing lamps hung above a throne like structure at the far end of the room. Seeing who occupied the arrangement, Hermione shuddered.

"Voldemort," she stated boldly. "How nice to see you."

"You dare mock me?" he seemed more amused than angered. "You dare ridicule your host? I will teach you."

"And what lesson could I possibly learn from you, Tom Riddle?" Hermione inquired. "What lesson could a mere half-blood teach me?"

Voldemort made no direct response to her question. Instead, he raised his wand and pointed it directly at Hermione. "Crucio!" he said without emotion.

Hermione doubled over in pain. '_I will not scream_,' she thought over and over in her mind. '_I will not let him hear me scream._' Pain engulfed her, blocking out her surroundings. All she felt was pain. She did not know exactly how long it continued but felt relieved when she found he had lifted the spell. A moment later she was not sure if she was so glad the spell had been lifted. The aftereffects were almost more painful than the actual spell. She tried to lift herself from the floor. Her entire body screamed in protest. Pitifully she crumpled to the floor. She raised her eyes to Voldemort and saw him staring at her.

"Lovely. You will be such a pleasure to break." Suddenly he began laughing, a cold, malicious, frightening laugh. He strode over to her cowering figure and placed a well aimed kick, coming in contact with her sore side.

Hermione inwardly flinched as she felt a snap in her side. Her breathing became labored. "What do you want?" she managed to gasp.

"Why, my dear, I want you to suffer," Voldemort stated simply. "I want that lovely Potter to come after you so that he can suffer too. You will cause them all to die. Now be a good girl and stop asking questions." His eyes flashed and he shot another spell at her, "Excrudolens!"

Hermione began convulsing, her body rising and slamming repeatedly into the stone floor. Pain washed over her, obscuring her vision and sending spasms through her frame. After many moments of experiencing this Hermione could hold in her pain no longer; a small moan escaped her mouth.

Voldemort's smile twisted. "Very good," he roared. "Finite Incantatem. I will see you tomorrow," he informed Hermione. He resumed his seat upon his throne and called, "Malfoy."

Draco appeared in the doorway. Hermione could barely make out his form, his dark clothes blurring his body with the dark stone.

"Take her away," Voldemort commanded.

Hermione felt herself being jerked into a standing position. She tried to stand on her own but found she had not the strength. Slowly she fell back to the ground. "Get up, mudblood," Draco growled. Resentfully, Hermione found herself being dragged across the hard floor away from her tormenter.

Once outside Voldemort's chamber, Hermione noticed that Draco no longer was holding her so fiercely. "I'm sorry," she managed to croak out. "I can't walk."

In vain she attempted to cling to her consciousness. Half a breath later she knew no more.

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Okay, next chapter will be out soon. Thanks so much to those lovely readers who actually reviewed!

Now do me a favor and hit the lil' review button at the bottom of the page.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello my pretties. This is a short lil' chappie because I just wanted a lil' Hermione/Draco action to take place. I will update with some beef soon. Please review.

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The vivid nightmare caused Hermione to thrash about in her bed violently, only further upsetting her injuries.

_Harry and Ron were huddled in a far corner of the same room she'd been tortured in that day. Voldemort towered over them, laughing maliciously. "You're little mudblood friend is the reason you are here," he spat. He casually threw curses at them, causing both boys to writhe in pain. "She led you right to me. It's all her fault." He broke off and began laughing sadistically. "Avada Kedavra!" Harry's body flipped once in the air before dropping to the ground. Hermione bit back a sob and stared at his still body. _

Hermione gasped and jolted into consciousness. '_Harry_!' she thought, pained. '_You mustn't come for me_.' Quickly she touched her silver ring and flinched slightly as the metal encircling her finger became the temperature of ice. She willed Harry and Ron to recall what she had written about the rings. Mentally she berated herself for not remembering about the charmed object sooner. Giving it up to exhaustion and panic, she sighed, and hoped that her two friends would heed her warning.

Exhausted, she let her arms fall back to her side. Lost in pain, she did not notice the soft touch of another on her face. "Come on, Granger," a low voice coaxed.

Her body was one solid ache. Hermione gingerly opened her eyes and found herself lying on her bed in the room Malfoy had taken her from that morning. Speaking of the ferret, she opened her mouth to question the blonde Slytherin sitting on the edge of her bed. Hermione felt a soft finger pressed to her lips. "I'm warning you now; you will feel a lot better if you don't talk." The voice wasn't threatening or cruel, in fact, it was slightly soothing.

Hermione closed her mouth reluctantly and stared up into the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Trust me. You have two broken ribs, a mild concussion, and neither of the curses that Voldemort performed on you were what you would term beneficial to your body." He slid his arm under Hermione's frame and lifted her into a semi sitting position. A cup was pressed against her lips. "Drink."

Hermione gulped at the water desperately. She was so thirsty. Gratefully she let the cool liquid calm her dry throat, but regretted ingesting the water almost immediately as she felt something rebel in her stomach, sending spasms of nausea through her body. Hermione turned her head to the side away from Malfoy and vomited repeatedly, bringing up everything she had in her stomach.

She was dimly aware of cool hands holding back her hair from her face and sank gratefully back onto her bed when she was finished. Hermione looked at the mess she'd made and blushed with embarrassment. She saw Draco wave his wand and felt better as her mess was instantly cleaned.

"You also seem to have some muggle disease. I think it's called the boo or something like that," Malfoy drawled nonchalantly, as if Hermione throwing up everywhere was an everyday event. A look of concern crossed the young man's face.

'_Concern?_ _On Malfoy's face?_ _Yeah right, Hermione. You're delusional,_' she thought to herself.

"I need to take your shirt off to fix your injuries. I won't do it if you don't want me to, but your injuries will only get worse," Malfoy stated carefully.

Hermione nodded, too exhausted to protest. She just wanted the pain to leave. Hermione hissed in discomfort when her shirt bumped her sore ribs as it went over her head. She looked down and saw a multitude of bruises adorning her body. Her right side was considerably more swollen than her left and the sharp pains shooting through that side of her body every time she took a breath made her think that it was her right side which had the broken ribs.

Malfoy approached her with a glass jar in his hand. He dipped his hand into the jar and moved it to her side. Slowly he rubbed the lotion over her bruises. She winced as his hand passed over her cracked ribs. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I would do a spell to fix them, but Voldemort has the entire encampment enchanted to detect all spells. This unauthorized spell would attract his notice. I can only heal the things he can't see using herbs and such. We're not even allowed to brew potions without his permission."

Hermione's mouth formed a small "Oh." Wanting to speak and not caring how much it hurt, she finally spoke to Malfoy. "Why are you here?" she whispered, lacking the strength to add the vehemence she had wished her inquiry to possess.

The Slytherin looked down at her for a moment before speaking. "Granger, I don't have to justify myself to you."

"Excuse me," she spat, her voice barely audible. Hermione attempted to heave herself off her bed to go to the sink at the far end of her room.

"Whoa!" Draco said, alarmed. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from you." She shoved him away, only to loose her balance and tumble back onto her bed. She gasped in pain as her sore side made direct contact with her hard mattress.

Firm hands repositioned her so that her weight was better distributed. When her vision cleared, Hermione was not sure whether to feel grateful or irritated that Malfoy was looming over her.

"Hermione, you must stay still," Malfoy mumbled.

"What's this? The ferret boy telling me what to do?" Hermione smirked, pushing on through the pain. She ignored that he used her first name when addressing her. "I'm sure you're just looking out for my wellbeing. Am I correct in this, Malfoy? The Dark Lord didn't put you up to this, did he?"

Malfoy looked angered. "Listen, mudblood, no one mocks me. No one. Understand? If you want to be stuck here in pain, then be that way. There are not many ways out of here and you happen to be pushing away the help of one of the few that knows these passages. I would think hard on that the next time you go to insult me."

Hermione watched in shock as Malfoy quickly stood and stalked out of the room.

'_What have I gotten myself into_?' she thought miserably. She fell back against her pillows and waited for sleep to consume her.

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A little over 1000 words. Not too bad. Pretty short, but still acceptable. Hope you enjoyed. Please review. To the small number of you who have reviewed---- thank you so much. I love you guys.

Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out within two days.


	4. Chapter 4

Well hello again. I know it's the holidays and not many people are reading or reviewing right now. But I thought I'd post this anyways while I'm still on break and have time to write. This is wonderful chapter 4. Not too much happens here, but we get some hints from Draco as to what has passed since we last saw him in HBP. I promise you will find out the entire story later in my story. :-D please review. I want reviews. Lol. I am leaving in five hours to go to FL. Every year my family (well my extended family, since it's just my father and I in my nuclear family… my extended family on my dad's side… aunt, uncle, cousin's, their kids, etc.) go to Disney World to celebrate New Year's Eve. Well every year since I was 2 and I'm 17 now. So 15 years…. It's fun, but that means I won't be updating or writing for awhile. And right after I get back I start a new job, every day after school. And I have exams starting the week after I get back to school. And I am now the entire yearbook staff at my school. Like I, as in one person, have to do everything. Ev-ry-thing…. Slow it down…. Ahha, sandlot moment. So updates will become less frequent. Just review, please. I know I am getting hits. I'm not stupid. But no one reviews and it drives me mad….. mad I tell you. Anyways, on with the story….

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Hermione awoke to someone rubbing their hand in a circular motion across her back. Her breathing hitched in her chest as she remembered the events of the past couple of days. The circular motion stopped abruptly and Hermione was left feeling very alone. She opened her eyes and saw the now familiar figure of Draco Malfoy standing over her bedside.

"It's time to get up," he murmured softly. To Hermione's befuddlement, he pressed his hand against her forehead, frowning slightly.

"Can I help you, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, opting to steer away from the use of 'ferret boy' for awhile since his last episode.

Draco quickly withdrew his hand and pointed at the sink in the corner of her room. "Wash your face. You will find a lavatory inside the door to the right of the sink. I'll be back for you in fifteen minutes. Voldemort has requested your presence."

Any relief Hermione was feeling after her rest quickly evaporated. '_I can't face him again_,' she thought becoming alarmed. '_He'll kill me_.' The logical part of her mind butted into her alarmist thoughts, '_Of course he won't kill you. He needs you to get to Harry_.' Hermione tried to keep her emotions off her face, not wanting to look weak in front of Malfoy, but she was failing.

"Granger, look at me." Malfoy's voice was calm and soothing.

Hermione grudgingly looked up at the confusing man before her. "Malfoy, I can't face him again."

Cupping her face gently in his hand, Malfoy took a deep breath. "You can and you must. Stay strong and don't give up any information to him. I will be waiting for you afterwards. Hold onto that thought if you must." He smiled crookedly and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Just remember you have a job to do when he's through with you. I expect you to come up with some good insults for me while you are in there. No more of this feeble ferret boy."

Hermione managed a smile, albeit a shaky one. '_Why is he being nice, almost caring_?' she wondered.

"Do you need help getting ready?" Malfoy inquired, looking nonchalant.

Hermione shook her head and made to rise. Her knees collapsed under her and she clumsily fell back to her bed. Malfoy's steady arm slipped under her shoulder.

"I think you do. Lean on me," he told her. When Hermione hesitated he repositioned his hands and told her, "I won't bite… this time. I promise."

Hermione rested some of her weight on the blonde man and let him help her hobble to the sink. Her body was so stiff and each of her movements sent a fresh wave of pain through her frame. It was slow work.

While they were near the sink, Hermione voiced something she'd wondered about since the previous day. "Malfoy, you told me that Voldemort can detect any spell that you do here. Well yesterday you cleaned up my …er… mess using a spell. Will he care?"

Draco tensed and looked at her. "Granger, Voldemort will most likely be pleased." Seeing her confusion he pressed on. "It was a banishing spell… to clean a mess. Voldemort will probably assume that I came in here and tortured you a bit for my own amusement and then needed someplace to dispose of the mess, of which he'll assume is blood or vomit."

Hermione's mouth, which had been hanging open while he explained, snapped shut. After a moment spent regaining her composure, she looked at him with a wry smile. "You certainly don't sugarcoat things, do you?"

"Never, Granger. Never," Draco replied, his own small smile matching her own.

After she'd been moving around for a bit, Hermione felt some of her stiffness leave her. Chalking it up to her moving about she dismissed Malfoy gently and said she'd be ready in five minutes.

Hermione used the lavatory and straightened her clothes, determined to face Voldemort with as much dignity as she could muster.

All too soon, Hermione heard a knock at the door. "You may enter," she called confidently.

Her door opened quickly but it was not Draco Malfoy standing before her. "You will not be seeing the Dark Lord today, mudblood. It's my turn. You're getting complacent, just calling me in here like that. I could have been the Dark Lord himself. Who were you expecting?" Lucius Malfoy sneered at her with every word.

"No one," Hermione said quietly. "I just assumed that whoever it was, I was not going to have much of a choice whether they came in or not, so I might as well not fuss about it. Does that make any sense?" she asked, hoping to distract Lucius from her amiable statement of before.

Lucius's eyes hardened and he descended upon her. "Do not speak to me as if you were my equal, mudblood." Smacking her across the face, Hermione's already unsteady legs gave way and she crumpled to the floor. "Sectremsempra!"

Hermione screamed in agony. Blood, her blood, was streaming everywhere, gushing freely from a long gash across her chest. "Stop," she tried to yell, however her voice emerged as no more than a whisper.

Lucius chuckled and walked towards her. He smacked her across the face again and her head banged back against the stone floor. Hermione writhed in agony as her sore head made contact with the hard surface. However, she was more concerned with her open wound, from which blood was still flowing.

She was faintly aware that her door had opened and someone had come through it, although her vision was so blurred from pain and blood loss she could not decipher who it was. She could only register pain, intense pain radiating through her.

Hermione felt her wound slowly and painfully begin to stitch together. Blood was still straining to escape, but the stitches were preventing heavy flow. She felt herself being lifted and was relived when she found herself on her bed. Blinking rapidly, she managed to clear her vision.

"Draco!" she called, gasping for air. "What happened?"

"Hush, don't talk," he commanded gently. "My father came here with Voldemort's permission to teach you a little lesson, as he would so kindly put it," Draco's voice was heavily leaden with sarcasm. "I got here in time to keep him from killing you," Draco told her, his voice barely audible. Hermione saw him swallow several times.

She knew Draco had told her not to talk, but she was worried for him. "Are you okay?"

Draco looked at her and took one of her hands in his. "I am now, Hermione. I would never forgive myself if you got killed." He brought her hand close to his mouth and brushed his lips against it. "We must tend to your injuries. May I remove your shirt?"

Hermione nodded meekly and waited for the wave of pain that would come from the disturbance of removing her shirt. Eyes closed she anticipated how it would feel and braced herself. The pain never came. Opening her eyes she looked at Draco who was in thought.

"Hermione," he began slowly. "I have a plan to care for your injuries using magic without Voldemort being any the wiser. If I removed your clothes using a spell, Voldemort would assume that I came in here to rape you. He would not care or be bothered. Then I can tend your injuries using the herbs and maybe use a bit of magic to fix the worst of it; Voldemort knows you have a strong spirit and would assume some violence would be necessary to get you to succumb to me. I can just tell him that I healed the injuries I gave you so that he would not be inconvenienced. Is this okay with you?"

Hermione thought it over. "You're intentions are noble, correct?" she asked him, half jokingly but also half seriously.

Draco peered at her with his pale eyes. "Always."

"Then proceed," she whispered, her chest too tight to speak louder. Immediately she felt the sharp pains in her side subside and sighed deeply as the majority of her aches ebbed away, leaving only a slight soreness. "Thanks, Malfoy," she said.

"I have some dittany," Draco told her. "It will prevent some scarring. I will have to rub it on your wound. Is this okay?"

Hermione was shocked that he kept asking her if his presence was okay to her. She was quite pleased with this. "Yes," she told him, too tired to voice much else.

Gently he rubbed a mixture over her stitched up wound. Hermione could not completely quiet her whimpers as his hand brushed across her sore skin. Draco said nothing; his face expressionless and his eyes distant.

He pulled away when he was finished and retrieved some white bandaging from a table in the corner. "This is going to bite a bit," was all the warning he gave her before beginning his work.

Bite was a mild word for what Hermione next experienced. It felt as if her entire top half was on fire. She gasped in pain and tried to shove Draco away. Failing miserably, she surrendered to the medical attention and tried to reign in her pain.

Draco stood after he had finished and let Hermione readjust herself in her bed. He walked towards a small window in the corner of her room and looked out across the barren land. The sun was setting and the sky was littered with clouds. Suddenly he spoke. "Granger, I know where one of the Horcruxes is. If you get out of here, you must get this information to Potter."

Hermione was taken aback. Quickly regaining her composure she reeled on Malfoy. "Why do you care?" she asked viciously. "How do I know what you say is true? I'm not stupid, Malfoy."

Draco turned to her with icy eyes. "No one said you were stupid, Granger, although you are acting a bit daft at the moment."

Glaring over at the blonde Slytherin, Hermione silently fumed.

"What else do you need from me Granger? Blaise wrote you a note, did he not?" When Hermione failed to respond, Draco pushed on. "I have helped you while you've been here. Hell, I even convinced my father to leave the room. What the fuck are you looking for?"

Hermione continued to lay in silence. She didn't know what she was looking for. Less than a week ago, she had believed Malfoy to be an arrogant prig who thought of nothing but himself and Voldemort. _What did he expect?_

"Granger, I'm not who you believe I am. I know I've been a right bastard. I know that I've done some damn mean things, but you have to believe that I want to be rid of Voldemort as much as you do. Look at this blasted thing…" he yanked up his sleeve and turned towards Hermione, showing her the dark mark burned onto his skin. "Do you think I want this here? Do you think I had a choice in accepting it?"

This was too much for Hermione. Grimacing noticeably she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Yes, Malfoy, you did have a choice and you chose wrong. And now you have to pay for your actions. You chose Voldemort because you are an arrogant prat that only wants power. Look at Harry's parents. They had a choice. They chose not to betray their beliefs and did not join Voldemort. You want me to feel sorry for you, when you have joined ranks with the most vile and evil being in our world?"

Draco's face hardened. "You know nothing, bitch. You know absolutely nothing. I did not have one damned say in this. Between Snape and Dumbledore and having to decide where my loyalties were… well this is one choice I could not make for myself after all that happened. I made a choice and this is where it landed me. So don't talk about things you know nothing about."

Making a rude gesture, Draco stormed towards the door. He turned back towards Hermione who lay on the bed silently, too confused to retort to Malfoy's outburst. "Speak like that to me again and you will not like the consequences." With an impassive face he stormed out of the room.

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MMMk.

Review.

I command you.

Let's see. Well I want to get Hermione out of there and get on with the story. This is kind of to build up at least a relationship of sorts between Hermione and Draco. Not necessarily romantic (yet). I just want them having more speaking exchanges. We will find out what Draco alludes to towards the end of this chapter in later chapters. I had some of his story put in here and decided he was being too nice too quickly. He may not be the Draco we thought he was, but he's still got 6 years of dislike towards the trio in him. So I scrubbed his more mushy and kind parts in this chapter and have decided to wait till later on to put those in.

Review.


	5. Chapter 5

Ahhhhhhhhhhh, don't hurt me. 1429 words--- not too long, not too short. Hope you like. I've been jumping around the past forever, uber busy with school, my job, the yearbook, life, clubs, gs, church, etc……… 'tis a crazy life. I wouldn't trade it. I am leaving for D.C. on Saturday and won't be back until Tuesday, so no updates too soon. I'll try and update sooner next time. Please review.

I think I may go back and rework this chapter. I don't know if I'm totally feeling the interactions. We'll see.

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Hermione was left undisturbed the rest of the day, with only two thoughts to keep her company; one, at least her captors were not harassing her and causing more injuries and two, unfortunately there was no distraction from her pain. Her breathing was less labored than it had been, but her wound from the Half-Blood Prince's spell had left her weak from blood loss and extremely sore. Movements that were too quick on her part, made her ribs smart something fierce and her head throbbed continually.

Her attempts at sleep during the day were in vain; however, tired she was, the pain coursing through her body and her fear banished her from the realm of sleep. Her head wound was causing her trouble. Throughout the day she had fainted a handful of times, waking minutes later- so she judged by the sun- and feeling more tired than before.

Nearly an hour after dusk she heard the clank of keys at her door and braced herself for the worst. Seeing that it was only the younger Malfoy, Hermione let herself relax, somewhat, in her bed.

"You're up." It wasn't a question; it was a cold statement from the mouth of the man she loathed so much, yet had learned to rely upon in the past few days.

"Obviously." Her comment was delivered with all the ferociousness she could find in herself- it wasn't much.

Draco sighed deeply. "I was expecting you to be resting," he told her, his explanation infused with more amiability than his initial statement.

"I tried," Hermione admitted, albeit coolly. "I'm tired."

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Draco asked, his rough exterior deteriorating; the question had the markings of true concerned stamped into it.

Hermione looked away from his clear eyes, ashamed to admit her weakness and pain had kept her from the land of unconsciousness. "No reason," she mumbled.

Draco cupped his cool hand beneath her chin and turned her face towards him. She winced as his hand brushed across one of the many bruises on her face. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

His comment went ignored. Hermione gathered her strength and tried to pull herself completely into a sitting position wanting to be on even ground with him. She hated being dependent. Her strength failed her and she collapsed against her mattress.

"Here, let me," Draco said, his voice calm. He gently put his strong hands behind her and eased her body into a sitting position.

The movement sent sharp pains throughout her body. In pain, Hermione bit her lip to keep from making a sound.

"Does it hurt that much?" Draco asked, his tone revealing nothing of how he felt.

Hermione searched his eyes to see if he was mocking her. Finding nothing in them but true distress she nodded and looked down at her lap.

"I wish there was more I could do," Draco said fervently.

Hermione was confused. Draco's mood swings were baffling. Did he care for her wellbeing? "We need to talk about earlier," she informed him.

Draco bit his lip, hands clenched. "I know," he admitted.

"I'm sorry, but you have to understand this from my point of view. You're Draco _Malfoy_. After six years of torment I'm supposed to believe you've turned a new leaf?" Her question was lacking the vigor she wished it to possess; her mind was drifting beyond her control.

Face hardening, the younger Malfoy turned so he was fully looking at the young woman before him. "It's not a 'new leaf,' Granger. I have never wanted to follow Voldemort. Listen, there are some things you don't know about me that I want to tell you but I can't. Not here at least but once---"

Hermione was loosing focus of the blonde man's head. Her eyes were closing against her will. 'No!' her mind yelled at her body. 'I must hear what he has to say.' Ferociously she tried to beat back the darkness that was creeping into her vision, obscuring her surroundings. Was that yelling she heard? Her name; that's it, someone was calling her name.

Hermione wrenched her eyes open and fought with all her might to cling to her surroundings. A removed part of her mind registered a warm presence in her hand. Something was stroking her hand. She followed that and the voice back to her room in Voldemort's encampment. She was finally able to focus a panicked Draco before her.

"Hermione, you must stay awake," he said, his voice slightly shaky.

"I'm sleepy," she murmured. "And since when do you call me 'Hermione?'"

"Since now, okay?" he retorted. "You have a concussion. I didn't realize it was this bad." Draco stood. He looked torn. "How are you feeling right now?" he asked.

Hermione took mental inventory. "Okay….why?"

"I will be right back. Do not go to sleep. Please," he begged.

He left her room quickly. Hermione sat in her bed, uncomfortable and tired. In a few moments Draco returned.

"May I have permission to pick you up?" he asked solemnly.

Hermione warily eyed him, groggy and in no mood to be jostled. "Can you tell me what we're doing?"

Draco again looked torn. "I'm getting you out of here. You need to see a healer."

"Permission granted," she whispered, exhausted and wanting only to sleep.

Draco slid his broad hands under her frame and eased her weight onto his arms. Hermione winced; her vision clouded with pain she buried her face in Draco's shoulder to muffle her whimpers. He carried her bridal style into her bathroom and gently shifted her weight so that his right hand was free to wave his wand across the wall. Hermione shut her eyes against a bright and sudden light.

"Try not to make any noise," Malfoy whispered in her ear.

Hermione kept her eyes shut as the young Slytherin trotted forward. Her nausea was returning full swing from the jerky movements of Malfoy's body. Silently, she tried to reign in her urge to vomit. A few minutes later, she knew she could not prevent the inevitable. "Malfoy," she whispered, remembering his request for silence.

She felt his attention shift and was tickled by the rumble in his chest when he acknowledged her, "What is it?" His voice was not harsh, but it was laced with slight irritation.

"I think I'm going to be sick," was all Hermione could choke out.

Eyes still shut, Hermione felt herself being lowered towards the ground. Malfoy gently sat her down and sat next to her, arm around her back to give her support. He did not shy away as Hermione began to violently bring up everything that was in her stomach. Shuddering, Hermione drew a clammy hand across her mouth in an attempt to rid herself of the unpleasant taste.

"Sorry," she told Malfoy, finally opening her eyes.

Malfoy gently rubbed her shoulder. "Don't apologize. Are you okay to move now?"

Hermione nodded, exhausted. She let Malfoy pick her up and then proceeded to again burry her head in his shoulder.

"We're almost there," Malfoy murmured. "Hang on just a bit more."

Malfoy continued to walk for what seemed like hours to Hermione. The bright light was fading, slowly being replaced by a reddish hue. The path they followed was becoming steeper. Hermione wondered how long Malfoy could continue at this pace with her added weight. A particularly rough step on Malfoy's part caused another wave of nausea to course through Hermione. "Malfoy, I need to stop," she said quietly.

Obediently, the young man set her carefully upon the ground, again encircling her with his arm, providing her with something to lean on. Hermione began coughing raucously, covering her mouth with a small hand. She got her body back under control and pulled away her hand. Horrified she stared openly at her hand; there was blood covering it.

"Hermione, we need to get you to healers fast," Draco breathed quietly.

Thoroughly miserable, Hermione allowed herself to be lifted by Draco. She shut her eyes tight, engaged in a battle to cling to consciousness.

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Hermione's first thought when she awoke was that she was no longer nauseas. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she focused on the looming figure next to her bed. "Where are we?" she whispered to her rescuer.

"Shhhh," Draco ordered gently. "We're safe; Order headquarters. Rest, you need to regain your strength."

Hermione was not too be silenced that easily. "Thank you," she told Draco quietly.

Draco's lips twitched in a small smile. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's forehead. "Sleep."

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So now Hermione is out of Voldemort's reach. What did Draco sacrifice though to get her to safety? How is their shaky relationship going to survive their past? Present? Future? Stay tuned. Buahahahahahahahahaha.


	6. Chapter 6

I seriously considered stopping this story here. It's a cosy little five chapters of hatred, compassion, desperation, power, and confusion. However, I like this story and felt that Hermione and Draco's relationship can be developed further. So I'm taking this story past her rescue. Hope that makes a few of you happy. I'd also like to apologise for my neglect of this story for the past couple of months.

IOIOI

Hermione stifled a sigh as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand yet another time over her body. She was restless. Although still very sore, Hermione wanted to get up and move about, however, it did not seem like Madame Pomfrey was too willing to grant this now.

The mediwitch clicked her tongue and scribbled something on her large clipboard. "Ms. Granger, there seems to be a problem."

Hermione stared at her. When the mediwitch did not elaborate, Hermione's exasperation peaked. "Well, what is it?" she demanded, rather more ferociously than she normally spoke her inquiries.

Madame Pomfrey frowned. "I would advise you to reign in that temper, miss. You're injuries are not healing properly. You've already been here for five days and they-"

Hermione interrupted the woman. "Five days? Why?"

"We had to make sure you were stabilised," was the clipped response the older woman provided.

Resignedly Hermione resettled herself gingerly, mentally bemoaning her sore body, to wait for Madame Pomfrey's verdict.

"I must discuss some things with the Order. Do you recall any unusual curses that were performed on you whilst you were imprisoned?"

"I wasn't conscious the entire time, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione informed the witch. "The curses I was conscious for were not unusual- cruel and uncivilised, but not unusual."

"Well, try not to move. I will be back shortly. I'd like you to take this pain reducing potion. It should keep your symptoms at bay until we figure this out."

Madame Pomfrey bustled out of the room before Hermione had a chance to interrogate the woman further. Frustrated, the young witch angrily downed the bluish potion and closed her eyes. Exhausted she leaned back and allowed sleep to consume her.

IOIOI

"They don't know what's wrong with her?"

"You-know-who performed curses on her whilst she was unconscious. She doesn't remember anything unfamiliar. Therefore we must figure out, the difficult way, which curses are keeping us from healing her and what could have caused the damage we found. The extent of her injuries is alarming. If young Mr. Malfoy hadn't brought her to us when he did, she would have died. There was an immense amount of swelling in her brain and her heart was weakened from blood loss. No one's body can withstand that kind of stress for such a prolonged amount of time. Add to that restricted food rations, and she is lucky that she stayed cognate as long as she did. Her heart is still very weak. There was also extensive internal bleeding, especially around her abdomen. Do you question my capabilities?'

Hermione stared at the painted ceiling, pointedly ignoring the open door several feet away. If she wasn't mistaken, she was hearing a conversation between Lupin and Madame Pomfrey. Thinking about what she'd just overheard, Hermione took inventory of her condition. She felt fine. There was a steady ache throughout her body, but she expected that. It was thorough, but dull.

"Madame Pomfrey, you misunderstand my concern. I am merely worried about her condition. I meant no disrespect."

The mediwitch cleared her throat and pushed the door open. Her critical eye landed upon the petite young woman lying on the bed. "I trust you have been sleeping?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione meekly replied.

"Good." The mediwitch threw an uncertain glance at the open door and then returned her attention to Hermione. "Doubtless, you heard some of my conversation just then."

"I wasn't trying to," the young woman informed the nervous witch.

"Of course, it's Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley that are the nosy ones. Now you have some extensive injuries, but we are unsure of how to cure these because the curses are still affecting your body, preventing our methods from taking effect."

"Wonderful," Hermione mumbled

"You truly don't remember anything that could help?"

Hermione fumed, insulted that the mediwitch was frustrated with her. She hadn't asked to be captured. "I truly don't remember a blasted thing, Madame Pomfrey. Here's an idea, why don't you owl the Death Eaters and ask them what they did? I'm able to give you about as much help as they would."

"Certainly, Ms. Granger, you understand the gravity of this?" Madame Pomfrey looked slightly affronted. "I will return later after I have spoken with some members of the Order."

Hermione watched the retreating back of the mediwitch until she disappeared through the door, not bothering to hide her bitter smirk. Of course she understood the seriousness of the matter. If they didn't figure out what was wrong with her, she would die. Not a complicated concept for her to fathom. It was the unpleasantness of said concept that made her snippy.

IOIOI

Hermione was awoken by the heavy door to her room banging against the stone wall. Here eyes fluttered open and slowly focused the tall figure of Draco Malfoy.

"Draco," she said, her voice raspy.

The young man briskly made his way to the side of her bed. "Granger," he acknowledged. He put a callused hand to her forehead and drew away after a moment.

Hermione eased herself into a sitting position, blushing slightly when Draco helped her adjust her back against some pillows. She watched as he moved about. His eyes were distant and cool, his movements precise and businesslike. "Draco, what's the matter?"

Draco wouldn't look her in the eye. He fixed his gaze on the wall and informed her in a monotone voice. "They tell me I am to be sent back to the Death Eaters. I am to use a time turner and go back. I can't stay here, my position as a spy is too precious to waste."

Hermione looked at his hardened features, the sharpness of his face. "I'm sorry," she said, at a loss for how to console her saviour.

Her back ached fiercely, but she pushed the pain to the back of her mind and concentrated on sitting up. She put a small hand on his arm in an attempt to quell him. "At least you won't be in danger for rescuing me. If you are there when I disappear, they can't accuse you of having a direct hand in it." She bit her lip as sharp pains shot through her side.

Draco was studying her face. She looked away, ashamed at her weakness. A cool hand cupped itself under her chin, drawing her gaze to the young Slytherin's. She saw in his eyes fresh resolve. "Hermione," he whispered urgently. "I will keep my eyes and ears open- I will find out what they did to you. There's still hope."

The young woman's eyes became misty, grateful for the man before her. "I wish there was a way without you being in danger," she told him.

A bitter smiled flitted across Draco's face. "I'll always be in danger from Voldemort. I'm marked."

Hermione's gaze flew to his arm, covered by his robe. She knew the Dark Mark was there, Voldemort's power. "Has he called you? I've been missing for a week from his lair. Has it burned?" She didn't know what made her ask, but she had to know.

Without hesitation, Draco replied. "The first day you were gone, he called us all. I didn't go; I had to know you would be alright. That's why I have to use the time-turner."

"Oh," was all she could think to say. After a few moments of silence, Hermione knew she had to say something about before in Voldemort's encampment. "About what I said concerning your Mark," she said slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize everything that was at stake."

Draco smiled; this time it was genuine. "Don't fret. I understand."

Relief washed over Hermione. Tension she didn't know she held slowly ebbed away. She returned his smile. "Good." She was sleepy and the room was so warm. She hadn't been this comfortable since she had arrived at Order headquarters. Looking up at Draco she stifled a yawn.

He noticed and swooped down upon her. "Bedtime for you," he said, a hint of mock authority in his voice. "You need your beauty sleep."

"Calling me ugly, are you?" Hermione asked, momentarily worried that his comment had been in earnest. She covered her actual worry by lacing her question with confidence and gusto.

The blonde man looked at her, eyes travelling from her blanketed feet, across her covered body, finally coming to rest on her delicate face. "Not for a second," he said, with feeling behind his comment.

He tucked her covers around her and drew her hand to his, kissing her hand and giving it a light squeeze. "Till the next time we meet," he promised, drawing away.

Hermione allowed herself a lone tear as she watched him exit her room knowing he was returning to the lair of Voldemort.

IOIOI

As I've said, RL has been a bitch lately. So sorry again for the delay. Please review. I know where I'm taking this story- there will be more action and a few complications. Don't worry- no characters I like will die :D


	7. Chapter 7

Well, RL is still being a bitch.  I've got more commitments than hair on my head (and I've got a hella-lot of hair), not nearly enough time, and about 50 pounds of shit that I'm continuously trying to shove into a 5 pound sack.  So, I do apologize for the markedly long delay.  I doubt any original readers are still interested, but I missed writing, so I'm back. 

1576 words- not too bad for a quickie chappie that I'm writing while I procrastinate instead of working on research for lab.  :D

Ps. Spoilers for all HP books.

You have been warned.

Also, I'm not going to go into super huge major detail about the Horcruxes.  JKR already did that.  I'm not really concerned about the Horcruxes.  I'm more interested in the people in the story, their relationships, and other things.  In this story, the Horcruxes are all the same objects as they were in the originals, but the manner in which some are destroyed changes.  Since this story takes place directly after HBP. 

--

Hermione woke with a headache and scratchy eyes.  She vaguely remembered crying herself to sleep after an intense discussion with Madame Pomfrey.  The young witch was sore, tired, and unhappy that her rescuer was back in harm's way. 

Grumpily she surveyed the room.  There was an ornate clock above a mahogany desk that displayed the time to be a little before midnight.  There were several vases of flowers and many cards on the table to her left.  On her right, someone had set up a calendar with the days that had passed marked off with large X's.  The person had even taken the care to write in details of the time Hermione had missed, with things such as "Hermione's capture," "Hermione's escape," and "Hermione's first awakening" written in precise letters on the proper dates.  There were also framed pictures of her with friends and family on the table, some photos magical and others muggle. 

Hermione couldn't suppress a small smile.  Someone was still looking out for her.  A smaller photograph on the table caught her eye.  There was only one person in it.  With a great surge of effort, Hermione bit her tongue and pulled herself towards the table, grimacing in pain.  She managed to reach her hand around the frame; it fit neatly in her palm.  She drew it close and saw it was of Draco.  His hands were casually stuffed in his pockets and his face was turned toward the camera, hair perfect and smug smile reminiscent of the cocky Draco she knew. 

Letting out a soft sigh, Hermione drew the picture close to her and cradled it, focusing her energies on staying calm.  She didn't know what she and Malfoy were, but was sure that enemies no longer could classify their relationship. 

A quiet knock at the door drew her away from her thoughts.  She grinned when she saw a messy head of black hair poke its way around the door.  "Hermione!  I thought you'd be sleeping."  The savior of the wizarding world kept his voice low. 

"Hi, Harry," the young woman returned.  "I just woke up actually.  How are you?"

Harry made his way into the room quickly and took a seat on the edge of her bed.  "I think it's my job to ask that of you, silly."  He glanced over at the table and frowned.  "Your dinner's gone."  A snap of his fingers summoned a house elf who was sent to fetch some food. 

"I'm fine, Harry," she intoned, not sure how she could capture everything that was right and wrong in a simple response. 

He drew in a long breath and opened his mouth, but shut it quickly when the house elf returned with a tray of soup and vegetables.  "Here, eat," he told her.  Harry helped her sit up in bed and put several pillows behind her back for support. 

Slowly, each move deliberate and effortful, Hermione fed herself, brushing off Harry's polite offer to help.  She was tired of being dependent and hungry.  Before Harry could begin speaking again, Hermione spoke up.  "So, Malfoy brought me here?" she asked, bluntly determining the conversation topic.

Harry smiled and responded, "Yeah.  We were all surprised."  His brow furrowed.  "Well, I don't think the senior members of the Order were.  The knew about Malfoy's loyalties, but the rest of us were shocked.  There's a lot to catch you up on."

Hermione knew he was talking about more than just Malfoy.  "I'm all ears," she told him, content to just listen and eat. 

"Well, first off, Snape is good."

Grateful she was in between bites, Hermione's face turned to one of shock. 

"Yeah, here's how it went.  Snape was forced to take this thing called an Unbreakable Vow to kill Dumbledore if Malfoy, the younger one, failed.  I guess it all goes back to when Dumbledore's hand got poisoned by the Horcrux.  Dumbledore made him promise that if he were ever put into a position which would mean the end of Dumbledore's life or compromising his position as a spy, Snape had to preserve his Death Eater status.  Snape wasn't happy with this at all, but figured it'd be a long way away.  However, Dumbledore was dying quicker than anyone, except Madame Pomfrey, knew.  So Mrs. Malfoy demanded of Snape to take an Unbreakable Vow to protect Malfoy, the younger one, and help him finish his job, of killing Dumbledore, if he failed.  Well, Malfoy failed.  He froze up there on the tower.  Snape wasn't going to do it; apparently, Dumbledore was like a father to him, but Dumbledore said something that made him do it.  If Snape hadn't done it, the Unbreakable Vow would have killed him."

Hermione's mind reeled trying to take in all this information at once.  "That puts things into perspective," she murmured.

Harry nodded and continued, "Well, Malfoy and Snape ran off, like we saw, and Snape apparently hid the younger Malfoy while the Death Eaters and Voldemort cooled off.  Snape and Malfoy discussed it and it was decided that Malfoy would take the mark.  Er, I don't think he had much of a real choice when it came to that.  Some stuff between him and Dumbledore and Snape.  I don't really know the whole story.  But, anyway, Snape has been worth his weight in gold.  He is in the perfect position to get as much information as possible and not questioned by the Death Eaters at all.  Malfoy looks like the perfect protégé and humbly took his punishment for not killing Dumbledore." 

Harry had said a lot of this in an animated rush and kind of slumped at the end taking one big breath.  He looked up and met Hermione's attentive stare.  "I'm glad you're okay," he told her. 

Hermione flashed him a smile.  She didn't know how much others were informed about her condition.  Obviously Lupin knew something and Madame Pomfrey was the most informed, but Hermione didn't want to worry Harry if he was unaware.  "That's certainly quite the story," she said, trying to distract him from her. 

"Yeah," Harry reflected, still a bit overwhelmed at times.  "It gets better.  Bill and Fleur have wed.  It was a small ceremony with just family.  They were going to have a huge celebration, but decided against it not wanting the event to become a target for a Death Eater attack.  I was able to leave the Dursley's yesterday; you don't know how worried I was when I'd heard you'd been taken."  Harry's eyes flicked down to the silver ring he was wearing.  "I knew I couldn't do anything that required leaving without voiding the blood protection; which I would have done in a heartbeat if it had meant saving you, though the second I walked off the property, I bet 50 Order members would have jumped me and made me stay, but we didn't have a fixed location on you.  We knew nothing and had no leads."  Harry wrung his hands together, becoming anxious.

Hermione placed her hand on his causing him to still.  "I'm here; I made it out alive.  Don't fret over this anymore," she said gently.  "Was there more to the story?"

Taking a steadying breath, Harry continued.  "Yeah, sorry.  I saw Voldemort." 

The silence in the room was palpable.  "Come again?" Hermione managed to choke out.

"I saw Voldemort.  He tried to get me with the killing curse.  I was at the Dursley's.  There were several Order members around the perimeter, but Voldemort still showed up. He was mad about something; I'm pretty sure it was your escape.  He fired the killing curse at me.  I threw up a block even though nothing is supposed to be able to protect you from that.  It did this weird thing where it sliced into several rays of light and one hit my scar.  He screamed and collapsed.  A Death Eater picked him up, ran, and Apparated away at the edge of the Dursley's.  The weird thing is, my scar doesn't hurt anymore.  At all."

Yawning, Hermione shook her head in disbelief.  "Next time I decide to disappear for a bit, I'll make sure to bring a cell phone or owl.  I can't believe how much has happened." 

Harry chuckled.  "There's more," he told her teasingly. 

Eyes going wide, Hermione gestured for him to continue.  She yawned and took a small sip of her water. 

"Well, we have found several more Horcruxes.  Snape took out Nagini.  Voldemort has no idea and thinks the snake is safe at the old Riddle house.  Hufflepuff's cup was destroyed by Kingsley, Tonks, and Lupin.  Ravenclaw's diadem was destroyed by Ron, Fred, George, and Neville.  Only Ron knew what it really was, but the other three knew they were destroying some dark object.  This leaves only the locket of Slytherin!  We are so close, Hermione.  People may soon be able to have normal lives again."

Harry's eyes were misty as were Hermione's.  They were so close.  Hermione was charged, though her body was exhausted.  She smiled sleepily at Harry.  "This is wonderful news," she sighed.  "We are truly close."  Her eyelids were drooping and Harry could see she was close to sleep. 

A slight frown flickered across Harry's face.  "We have no idea where the locket could be," he let her know.  "But I'm sure we'll catch a break.  We always do."

Hermione allowed a small smile to settle on her face.  "Malfoy knows where it is, Harry," she said as her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. 

-

End chapter

Okay, so it's super short.  But it is an update.  I know where I'm going with this.

Yay!

Please review.

No flames.  I can take constructive criticism, but no bashing.  That gets old and annoying really quickly. 

I do solemnly swear that this much "story dialogue" will not happen again.  I promise action, not stories.  But I had a lot to set up.  So I feel it's justified

Now review

Pretty please. 


	8. Chapter 8

quick update. do you know how many reviews i got for chapter 7?

take a guess

go on, guess

zero

that's right, people

I got ZerO reviews.

Authors who get zero reviews are authors who don't feel very appreciated and are tempted to not update as quickly.

just some food for thought.

-

original a/n below:

I am honestly very disappointed at the lack of reviewing going on this site. I've been talking with a few of my friends who are authors on this site and they feel the same. So many stories are getting hits and reads, but so few people are reviewing. It is in your power to change this. Review.

-

This chappie has 1148 words. Smaller than I like to make them, but honestly, people should be happy with anything since they're not reviewing. How am I to know if you like it or hate it? How do I know I should even bother putting what's in my head down on paper to share with all of you? I'm happy to just have the story in my head. I know the ending. I know who lives, who dies, who loves, who hates, who betrays, who is injured, who is tortured, who rescues people, and how it all happens. You guys don't. the only way to find out is for me to write it out. But you're not reviewing. And that makes me a sad panda.

And sad panda's don't write very well

Or update very quickly.

So even if you just hit that button and say:

hey

OR

That stunk

OR

Great job

OR  
I don't like your characters

OR

I don't like HG/DM stories, but I'm reading thisanyway and I still don't like HGDM

Or

Anything

So long as it's something!

--

Hermione awoke to a cool hand on her forehead. She shrank back, unsure of whereabouts; she was unable to suppress a small whimper of fear. Her anxiety escalated as she realized she was too weak to even draw her arms up in defense.

"It's okay," a low voice soothed her. A mumbled incantation sent light into the globes hanging from the ceiling and the lamps on her bedside tables.

"Professor Snape," she observed, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Her erratic heartbeat calmed seeing the potions master at her side.

"Ms. Granger, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," the young woman replied quickly. She'd had little time of her own to ponder this man's past actions and current loyalties. However, she recognized how much he had sacrificed for the Order.

Snape raised one eyebrow and turned to a table laden with potion vials. "We're going to have to try some different potions until we know exactly what you were hit with. Draco has given me a report that's complete to the best of his ability, but we still don't know which healing inhibitor curse you were hit with. Voldemort can be creative."

Hermione swallowed hard and studied the man in front of her. She felt she could trust him. "Have you heard anything from Draco?"

The potions genius paused and looked up, locking his eyes with hers; his face betrayed nothing of how he felt. "I've only received this report on your time spent at the encampment and some firm instructions to let no more harm come to you. I'm sure Draco is fine. Voldemort would have let me know if there was a problem."

Some of the tension in her shoulders disappeared. "Shouldn't you be at the encampment?" she inquired.

"Voldemort sent me abroad to gather certain ingredients for a new potion. There are two Order members currently doing my work as my medical expertise is needed here." Snape refused to look her in the eye. "I'm not going to sugar coat this, Ms. Granger; your injuries are serious."

"I know," she said, happy to have another with whom she could be frank. "Could you please call me Hermione?" She didn't know what made her ask, but it was something she felt she needed.

Without hesitation, Snape nodded. "I need to apply some healing paste to your wound from the curse Lucius performed on you. May I remove your shirt?"

Hermione nodded, resigned to being at the mercy of another.

A softly whispered spell vanished her shirt and the bandages that had covered her wound. Hermione was relieved to see she still retained her bra. The thing was in bad shape, with tears and dirt across the fabric, but it was something. Snape muttered some jumbled words under his breath and her bra was once again clean with the rips repaired. He unscrewed a jar of greenish blue paste and delicately scooped some out with his fingers. "This will probably hurt as much as last time, if not more," Snape warned before he set to work.

Hermione sucked in a breath as the cool paste was rubbed into her wound. She bit her lip to restrain a yelp and tried to control the pain quaking through her body. Her lip began to bleed, but she was more focused on the pain radiating from her wound that continued through to her limbs. She knew she was going to be sick in a moment if she didn't get control over her pain. As soon as it began it was all over. She opened her eyes and saw white bandaging around her ribcage. Snape was wiping off the excess paste from his hand using a towel while Hermione tried to calm her trembling limbs.

Snape quietly took a wet cloth from beside her bed and lowered himself so he was sitting next to the young woman's shaking body. He used the cloth to gently clean the blood from her mouth and chin where it had run. "You were very brave, Hermione. I'm sorry there's not an easier way to do this." He brushed her hair away from her sweaty face and held his hand to her forehead. "You have a fever," he stated.

Her hand was clutched around his and her breathing had calmed. "Is it infected?" she asked. She felt very weak; she could not get her limbs to stop quivering.

"No. Not right now," Snape told her. "I'd like to keep it that way. I need you to take this potion."

Hermione determinedly tried to raise herself into a sitting position. Her arms were too unstable though and she could not lift herself. She huffed in frustration, scared that she felt so weak. The potions master gently eased her forward and stuck pillows behind her back for support. He brought the vial to her lips and she drank it down in one gulp. Her nausea subsided and her head felt much clearer. "What was that?" she asked, her insatiable curiosity asserting itself.

"A special brew," Snape informed her. "We can discuss its properties in a moment. It's time you ate." While he talked, he waved his wand and Hermione was once again wearing a shirt.

Hermione grew distressed. She was too weak to feed herself. "I'm not hungry," she told Snape, her voice quieter than usual. Her stomach growling revealed her lie just a moment after she spoke.

"Hermione," Snape began carefully. "You won't get better if you don't eat and regain your strength." He left out for the moment that she wouldn't get better period if they didn't figure out a way to counter the healing inhibitor.

After a moment's hesitation, Hermione nodded. Snape took a steaming bowl of soup form the table and slowly began feeding spoonfuls of the thick stew to Hermione. The young witch was uncomfortable, but soon forgot her trepidation as Snape launched in to the properties and ingredients of his special home brewed potion she had imbibed earlier. As she ate, she listened with rapt attention to the complicated potion.

Snape helped Hermione maintain as much dignity as possible while he fed her, pausing every so often to let her sip at her glass of water. Snape's lecture on the potion was interrupted by a commotion at the door.

Draco stood in the doorframe, his Death Eater robes silhouetted from the bright lights in the hallway. In his right arm he clutched a mask.

His anxious eyes met Hermione's calm gaze. "Draco, what is it?" she asked, immediately knowing something had happened.

Draco swallowed quickly and looked down. "They got your mother and father. I could only save one. Hermione, you have to believe me that I only had time to save one of them."

Hermione felt as though she'd just been plunged into an icy river. Her heart dropped and settled somewhere around her stomach while her brain raced. She didn't want to voice the question that was screaming inside of her. _Which one did he save?_

--

Alright, so I kind of promised that we'd see more Draco in this chapter

Well, here's Draco.

Yes, it is at the very end of the chapter, but that's what you get for not reviewing. I'm being mean. I'll admit it, but most of you are writers and know how FrustratinG it can be when people don't review. And how completely DisrespectfuL it is.

Look, I don't care if you even write "Dear Darla, I hate your stinkin' guts. You make me vomit. You are scum between my toes. Love, Alfalfa."

At least then I'll know you read my rant.

I do love you guys as readers

I wouldn't write and post if I didn't love you guys

So do a sister a favor and **review**


	9. Chapter 9

Update: 7/29/08

Eeep! Sorry for the delay. My beta and I both had separate RL mini crises that we had to deal with, so, unfortunately, you good people had to wait for this update. Please forgive me!

7/22/08

People, please. I don't want to have to resort to bribery for reviews, but I'm sorely tempted. I remember the day on this site when you could get 50 reviews in a matter of hours. What happened, people? I know it's not my writing. I'm still just as good a writer now as I was back in the day.

You guys are tempting me to send each chapter out by email to the few people who take the time to review and leave the rest of you hanging until I get a response. This action would probably result in a lot of flames, but at least then I'd know you guys were paying attention. The review option is a WONDERFUL tool for authors and readers both. You have so much power with such a little, tiny button. USE IT. Go on. Click it. Click it. Click it. It's there and waiting. You know you want to.

For those who did review the last chapter: A MILLION THANK YOUS! You guys rock. You guys are keeping me on this story, 'cause there's little motivation without you guys. Honestly, you guys are awesome!! I love love love reviews and try to reply to all the ones that are from people who are signed in or leave an email address! Thank you, thank you, thank you! A super special thanks to Linkin Park 04 who reviewed every single chapter!!

Those of you who are reading this without reviewing, you guys owe those reviewers some major thanks. I wouldn't keep posting without them.

That being said, I love **ALL** of my readers. **ALL OF YOU.** That includes that person who is reading this right now who has never reviewed in his/her life and the person who takes the time to review any and everything they read no matter how pressed for time he/she is. I do love you **all** and cherish you as readers. I guess I can liken the situation to children. No matter what action (good or bad) your child does, you always always always love him/her (this analogy is excepting those parents who don't understand the meaning of _unconditional love_ and are unable to fully appreciate their children). I will always always always appreciate and love my readers. Honestly! But just as children can frustrate parents, so can readers. And I must say, I am a bit frustrated. But I still love you guys.

So, please, review. Make an author happy!

Ahem, now that my a/n is longer than the actual update (just kidding, my a/n is only 440 words and my story is 1968 words… not too short, not too long)…. On with the story!

* * *

Snape stood and placed the unfinished bowl of soup on the table next to Hermione's potions. Draco rushed into the room, grabbing Hermione's hand.

He took a slow, steadying breath. "Death Eaters attacked your father's house last night. They captured him, but did not harm him. They went to your mother's house around the same time. I was assigned to the group sent to your father's house. I threw curses at him, which I knew would not injure him. Your mother was not so lucky. They used the Cruciatus curse several times. Voldemort killed her when they brought her back to the encampment. I smuggled your father out using the secret passage we escaped through."

Tears began streaming down Hermione's face. Her body shook as she tried to process what had happened. Snape quietly left the room while Draco eased her into his embrace and slowly rocked her back and forth, letting the young woman bury her head into his chest. For a quarter of an hour he held her close until her shaking subsided and her breathing evened out, her body finally succumbing to sleep. Even then, Draco rocked her gently. After several moments he carefully lowered her onto her pillows and drew the blankets across her body. He sat next to her and traced the line of her face, tenderly swiping at the tear stains with his thumbs.

* * *

A soft knock made him look up. "Can I come in?" Snape asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

Draco nodded and motioned towards the chair near the bed. Snape took a seat and sighed, cautiously examining the scene before him.

For several long moments the older wizard observed Draco and Hermione. Draco made no move to speak. "Don't feel guilty, Draco," Snape ordered, finally breaking the silence. His deep eyes were hooded by his long lashes and disclosed nothing of how he felt.

The blonde man looked annoyed. "Who are you to tell me how I should feel? You don't get it."

"What don't I get?" the older wizard questioned, tone harsh, his lined face impassive. "I was forced to kill my mentor, Draco. My mentor; the only person who'd ever given a damn. There are a lot of emotions I associate with his death. Guilt is not one of them." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "There are many things you should feel about the death of Hermione's mother. Guilt shouldn't be one of those emotions. It was not in your control; therefore, you can feel bad about it, but you should harbor no guilt."

Draco unconsciously rubbed Hermione's hand with his own. "I don't even know how she feels, Severus. I only know that her mother is dead and she is upset. Do you know she's lived with just her father since she was four?" Draco's face betrayed nothing of his emotions. "Apparently though, she was not even safe from her mother then; her father traveled too much to protect her from everything. Her mother would emotionally and physically abuse her when she saw her. Her mother allowed her father, Hermione's grandfather, to sexually abuse her. Voldemort told me this. What can Hermione be feeling right now? Her mother is dead; a mother who did all these horrendous things to her, but still her mother."

Snape had paled as Draco revealed Hermione's secrets. No one had known what the young witch had suffered. "How did he find out, Draco?"

"While she was captured Voldemort performed Legilimancy on her. His plans were to kill Hermione's mother to win over Hermione and use her father as a bargaining chip, since he knew she loved him. What do we do, Severus? How do I help her?"

"Draco, all you can do now is be there for her," Snape replied. "How do you stand with Voldemort right now? Did you have to compromise your position to save her father?" Snape's back was straight and his emotions in check even as he reached a critical point in the discussion.

Draco shook his head. "Fortunately, Voldemort had several Death Eaters assigned to her father's room and I was not one of them. He doesn't suspect me. Right now he believes I am at home recuperating from a scuffle between Mr. Granger and myself."

"Good," Snape declared, mind reeling with the new information. His face remained unreadable and his eyes cold as he surveyed Hermione. "Have you gathered any information about her condition?"

Draco looked down. "No, sir," he responded, voice thick with emotion.

Snape reached out, guiding his hand beneath Draco's chin. He forced Draco to look him in the eye. "You cannot afford to lose your control over your emotions, Draco," Snape began cautiously. "Any emotional leverage you give the Death Eaters only further endangers Hermione, yourself, and me. We should practise Occlumency before you leave to strengthen your shields."

The blonde took a steadying breath and deliberately forced his facial features into a mask of indifference, void of all emotion. "I understand."

* * *

_It was dark. Hermione couldn't see in front of her. She could hear the ragged breathing of a man closing in on her quickly. She was halfway across her room, intent on crawling under the bed she knew was mere feet in front of her blank eyes. The whisky on her grandfather's breath overwhelmed her senses. Stumbling over some ill placed object, Hermione lost her footing and fell. Her grandfather caught up to her in a moment's time. She knew there was no escaping his violation of her and tightly closed her unseeing eyes as the first blow came._

Hermione awoke, gasping for breath. She focused on calming her erratic heartbeat. A cool hand took hers just a moment later. Disoriented, Hermione shrunk away from the contact, frightened by the looming presence next to her bed.

"It's me," Draco told her softly, his warm voice laced with as much tenderness and affection he could muster.

The young witch inhaled deeply and stared at him, eyes full of tears. "Draco, it was horrible," she gushed unhappily, her face scrunching up in emotional pain. Slight tremors ran through her weak body, a testament to how fragile her state of health still was.

The blonde man gently smoothed her hair, reverently tracing the line of her face. "Hermione, Voldemort shared what he knew of your home life with the Death Eaters. I understand how difficult this is for you."

Far from calming the distraught woman, Draco's words caused her further anguish, the pools gathered in her eyes spilled over, the salty tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "You must think me so weak," was all Hermione managed to mumble through her distress.

"How can you think that?" Draco demanded, his words delivered with more ferocity than he'd intended. "You are one of the strongest women I have ever met. You have faced so much and still retain your love and innocence. You are the embodiment of courage, Hermione. You have nothing of which to be ashamed."

His words were delivered with such conviction and intensity that Hermione paused in her worry, actually believing what he said. She knew of all people Draco was the least likely to lie to her. Of all the people who could have absolved her from the invisible sin Hermione felt she carried, Draco was the only one she would accept. A loud sniff ended her crying, though her cheeks remained wet. "Thank you," she told him quietly. Her eyes held nothing but trust and acceptance for the man before her.

Now accustomed to the routine, he gently eased her into a sitting position and placed a large pillow behind her. He took her smaller hands gently between his and brought them to his lips. With solemnity and respect he brushed his lips across each hand, pausing both times to look her in the eye. "Nothing done to us against our will can ever taint our being," he whispered, his voice causing her to shiver. After pausing for a moment, his body became tense, lines creasing his brow. "I have to return to Voldemort. My position was not compromised and, as such, I must go to his side, the willing servant, having recovered from my brawl with a certain male Granger," he informed her with a slight smirk.

Her questioning eyes prompted him to explain part of what had transpired with her parents. "After I rescued your father, who is safely with Dumbledore, I returned to Voldemort sporting bruises and mild wounds. I told him that I had acquired these in a brawl with your father and politely requested time to recuperate away from the more resourceful lesser Death Eaters. Creative ill wishers of an injured high ranking Death Eater pose more of a threat than the Order does when at the encampment." Draco paused, not sure if it was the right time to address such deep wounds. "I am sorry about your mother, Hermione."

Without conscious thought, Hermione worried at her lip, eyes clouding in pain. "I never really knew her," she said after a moment's contemplation. "I mean, I visited with her and such, but I never knew anything about her. Nor did she know anything of me. It was a superficial relationship, Draco, one that caused little but pain and confusion. Her father could be creative."

Draco let her speak, his silent support apparent in his strong grasp on her hand. He did not interrupt, even when she stopped speaking, afraid to keep break her flow of thoughts.

She continued after a brief inner struggle. "It _was _a superficial relationship, Draco, but it was all I had. It still hurts. Between her and my father, I don't know how to feel. He loves me, I know, but he knows nothing about me. He tries, but he just wasn't meant to have a child. He wasn't prepared for the responsibility and still he does not know how to handle me. He provides as much as he can but has been emotionally unavailable my whole life. He was never there. I'm so confused," she finally admitted, her words jumbled together in a rush, eyes darting around nervously. She avoided looking Draco in the eye. Her fear was being alone, but she refused to voice this, feeling hopeless against her own thoughts.

Draco cupped her face, forcing her brown eyes to connect with his icy grey orbs. "I completely understand, Hermione," he said slowly, eyes never leaving hers, "And I want you to know, you are never alone. You will always have me."

Hermione melted at Draco's words. She did not know it, but she had tapped into an oasis of feeling deep inside the contemplative blonde.

Her humble expression of her own inadequacy gave Draco the courage to voice what he'd never shared with anyone before, save Snape. "My family shares many of the same deficiencies as yours," he explained, selecting his words with care. "I too have suffered at the hands of those supposed to love me. I too love those incapable of emotionally bonding. My mother has provided everything for me to thrive physically, but she knows nothing of the bond a parent and child should share. Nor does my father. Do not try to reconcile how your parents nor grandfather have treated you with the manner in which a family is supposed to treat their child. It will cause you nothing but worry and heartache." His demeanor shifted. "Instead, we must focus on what we have," he paused momentarily, making sure he had her attention, "and right now, we have each other."

For the first time since her capture, Hermione felt herself relax, tears of joy springing to her eyes. She tightened her hand around Draco's and in a surprising act of strength, leaned forward and pushed her lips against his.

--

Hoorah, another chapter! Don't kill me for this one being so long in coming. At least it didn't take me two years to update this time :D

I hope you enjoy and I implore you to review! I hope this cliffie wasn't as bad as the last!


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